Your Secret's Safe With Me
by rockstarpeach
Summary: AU - Giles is the librarian at Sunnydale high, and he's kind of a pervert. He catches Spike and Angel in a compromising position. Will he keep quiet about it? And if he does, what will he ask for in return? Rated M for a reason, kids!


Seriously people. Read the warnings. And if you aren't old enough (heh, kinda like Spike), go away. I thought about just linking to my LJ here, where you have to promise you're old enough before you can read it, but I'm gonna trust you.

Title: Your Secret's Safe With Me

Pairing: Spike/Angel, Spike/Giles

Rating: Adult

Summary: AU – Giles is the librarian at Sunnydale High, and he's kind of a pervert. He catches Spike and Angel in a compromising position. Will he keep quiet about it? And if he does, what will he ask for in return?

Warnings: underage, dub-con, abuse of power, general dicktitude. You know, the good stuff ;)

***

Rupert Giles was sitting at his desk in his office, the back room of the library, going over his book orders for next month. He'd had quite a few requests from students, and even more from faculty, but the school principle was such a tight fisted bastard and Giles had learned to ask only for what was absolutely essential. If Snyder felt his list was padded, he wouldn't get anything.

When Rupert had first started on as the librarian of Sunnydale High, he'd been impressed. The library was well stocked, although most of the books had been of a more… alternative… nature. And principal Flutie had let Giles order most of the books he'd wanted, but when Snyder started, he decided that money would be better spent on the swim team, faculty meals, and furnishings for his own office.

He sighed and pushed his list forward, leaning back in his chair and drumming his pen against his desk. It was third period, and the library was empty. Not that it wasn't normally empty, even before or after school, and at lunch time as well. It wasn't often that anyone visited the library, and when they did, they didn't tend to hang around for long.

He glanced up at the security monitor on the filing cabinet, not expecting to see anything on any of the feeds. He rarely did. But it seemed that some students lately had taken to vandalising some of the books, and Snyder had insisted on having a CCTV installed in the library, in order to 'catch those hooligans in the act'. He was an enormous shit. Giles was seriously thinking about quitting.

On the other hand…

He perked up as the monitor switched to the feed from the stacks, showing two juniors, Spike, and… damn, what was the other boy's name? He mentally shrugged. It didn't really matter. They were looking at the books on the shelf, or pretending to, which was painfully obvious to anyone that would have been looking. Giles didn't know why they bothered to pretend. If they were there to smoke, or drink, or vandalise, looking shiftily from each other to the books to the half set of stairs leading up to where they were wasn't fooling anyone.

The feed switched to the main library entrance, and a few seconds later to the conference table, then to the computers, the card index, and then back to the stacks. Back to Spike and that other handsome boy, and this time they were slightly closer together, Spike's nose buried in a book, and the other one looking at him, smirking, rubbing his hand up and down Spike's arm.

Hmm. Giles quickly grabbed for the remote control from his desk drawer and hit a few buttons, stopping the video from switching again, and turning on the volume. This could be interesting.

***

"Spike come on," Angel said, voice soft, coaxing. "Nobody's here. Nobody _ever_ comes here. I don't even think Mr. Giles is here!"

"I just…" Spike started, looking down at his book again, teeth closing over his lower lip. He lifted his head again and looked from side to side before settling his gaze back on Angel. "I just want to make sure."

"And we're sure. Nobody else around. So…"

Spike closed his book and put it back on the shelf, turning to face Angel, and darting his eyes rapidly from side to side, once more. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Angel smiled and stepped closer, his hand moving up Spike's arm, over his shoulder, and to the back of his neck. Spike licked his lips nervously, hand gripping the metal shelf of the library stack tightly as he watched Angel's face get closer, closer.

Things seemed to be in slow motion for Spike, Angel's lips descending on his own, and Spike tried to shake himself out of it. It wasn't like they'd never kissed before. They had. Three times. The first time was just last week. It was at a party, they'd both been there with their girlfriends, and they'd been drunk. Really, really drunk.

Angel had started it, but Spike couldn't say that he hadn't liked it, and they'd found a dark, private room, and done a little bit of innocent exploring.

They next day at school they'd both been slightly freaked out, had avoided each other as best they could, but by the end of the day they had been making out behind the last portable, in a secluded little doorway, where the smokers sometimes went, to avoid teacher supervision.

Spike hadn't let it go on very long, fearing they'd be caught, and a few days later it didn't surprise either of them when Angel tried again, waiting almost an hour after classes had ended, and kissed Spike on his way out of the library, when he'd finished studying.

Now he was getting braver, and trying to convince Spike that the library, during school hours, was a good place and time to get physical, when they'd only touched a handful of times, and hadn't even spoken to each other much more than that. But, Angel thought, you didn't need to talk to someone to know if you had sexual chemistry.

He'd never been with another guy, and he knew for damn sure that Spike hadn't, but… fuck. Being with Spike just seemed so right, so fucking good, and sure, they had to sneak around, to hide it from everybody, especially Darla, because she would kill him if she found out about this, and he kind of liked his balls right where they were.

And Buffy probably wouldn't be too happy with Spike, either. But damn, it was almost worth whatever the possible fallout would be, to feel Spike's shy, hesitant lips under his own, to feel his strong arms around him, his tight, muscular body against his own.

And it would really be worth it to see those pretty little cheeks of his all hollowed out and sucking, and those sexy, pouty lips wrapped around his cock. _Fuck_.

"Relax, Spike," Angel said, closing his eyes, and softly placing his lips over Spike's. "Oh, fuck," he mumbled against Spike's mouth, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. "Damn, this is… you're… amazing."

Spike didn't say anything, just opened his mouth, letting Angel's tongue in, letting his own unfreeze to move against Angel's, and soon his hand let go of the bookshelf and moved forward to Angel's hip.

He liked Angel. Or he thought he would like him, if they were ever to have an actual conversation. They weren't friends, didn't normally hang around the same groups of people, but through some crazy cosmic fluke they seemed to have realised that they got along pretty damn great when they had their tongues down each other's throats.

"You too," he said, quietly. He was shy, sure, but damnit, he wore leather and smoked cigarettes and died his hair, and he sure as shit wasn't going to be freaked out by some 'king of the school' jock trying to get a leg over.

"Fuck!" Okay, well, maybe when said jock stuck his hand down his pants and grabbed Spike's cock, closing his fist tightly around it and pumping it, fucking _smiling_ at him while he did… yeah, that maybe could freak him out a little. "Shit, Angel."

He breathed out a shaking breath against Angel's face, his hands gripping tightly to Angel's bicep and hip. He wasn't quite pushing him away, but he wasn't pulling him closer, either. "Oh, God, that… No. No, you've got to stop."

Angel stilled his hand, but didn't remove it. "Why?" he asked, kissing Spike once more on the lips before tilting his head, trailing kisses across Spike's jaw and over his neck. "We both like it. Don't we?" Damn. Angel didn't think _girls _were this much work. Not that Darla was a great baseline or anything.

"Ah!" Spike screamed, but in his defence it was a manly kind of scream, when Angel's thumb glided over the head of his prick, dipping into the slit and smearing the small bit of fluid around. "Yeah… yeah, we… Oh God! We like it. I don't even think 'like' is a strong enough word."

"Good then," Angel smiled, and slowly removed his hand from Spike's pants, teasing his fingertips over the smooth flesh as he did. "Cause this?" he continued, placing his other hand on Spike's shoulder and gently but firmly pressing on it, forcing Spike to his knees. "This I'm gonna _love_."

Spike sank to his knees gracefully, acting much more sure than he felt about this, his eyes never leaving Angel's, his head tilting up slightly the closer he got to the floor. He knew what Angel wanted, and honestly he wanted it too, but he was scared. He'd never touched a dick that wasn't his own before, never even seen one up close, and he'd sure as bloody fuck never had one in his mouth. He hadn't even wanted to before last week, when he and Angel had their first drunken fumbles.

Now it was almost all he could think about.

Angel opened his pants, and the pale pink tip of Spike's tongue slid out to lick across his lips, his eyes widening as Angel slid his hand inside, and pulled out his already hard cock, pumping it a few times before pointing it at Spike.

"Open up, baby," Angel said, placing one hand on the back of Spike's neck, and pulling him a little bit closer.

Spike turned his head, shaking off Angel's hand, breaking their eye contact. "Get the hell off me, you sodding ape," he groused, but he didn't get up. He shifted his weight slightly, shuffling his knees, to get a bit more comfortable, and getting close enough to Angel that he would comfortably be able to suck his cock.

And just how in the hell he was thinking 'comfortably' and 'sucking Angel's cock' in the same sentence he had no idea. He wasn't feeling comfortable at all. Nervous, scared shitless, excited, horny, but… not _comfortable_.

"Now hold the bloody hell still and let me do this my way."

"Be my guest," Angel said, raising an eyebrow and dropping both hands to his sides. He looked down at Spike, waiting for him to do something, anything, but after thirty seconds, Spike didn't seem to be any closer to where Angel wanted him to be. "Well?" he prompted, sounding a little impatient. "We really don't have all day, Spike. Our next class is gonna start in a few minutes."

"Keep your bloody shirt on," Spike snapped, annoyed. This was a big deal for him. His first time giving a blow job, and Angel wasn't exactly easing him in. Insensitive tosser. "I'm just…" Just trying to work up the nerve.

"Just relax, baby," Angel told him, hand reaching out again, but slowly this time, not to force Spike, just to touch him lightly, to reassure him. He knew Spike was scared. The truth was, he was too. But he knew what he wanted, and right now, that was Spike's throat closing down around his dick. And the best way to get that, was to be nice to him. "If you don't want to…"

"No," Spike hastened to assure him. "No, I do." He snickered and shook his head slightly. "I really, really do. Just… Okay. Okay, just… hold still."

Angel nodded, his fingers sliding through the short hair at the base of Spike's skull, messaging, calming him. "Just do it your way. I won't move."

Spike swallowed, took a breath, and in one motion he grabbed hold of Angel's cock and ducked his head forward, opening his mouth wide and moving about halfway down Angel's erection before he closed his lips over it.

He pressed his tongue up against the under side and pulled his head back a little bit, experimenting with licks and sucks, sliding down a little bit further each time he bobbed his head. It was… different. Not entirely pleasurable, not at first.

It was more of an experiment, or a learning exercise. He was learning how much he could take in his mouth at a time, learning how deep he could take Angel in without choking, coughing and sputtering, feeling stupid and inexperienced. Learning just the right times and places to lick, and kiss, and gently nip with his front teeth, to force the sexiest little squeaks and jerks out of Angel, watching him try to be quiet and hold still.

Learning how hard to suck, and just when to swallow, to make Angel's hand clamp down hard on the back of his neck, and his head to fling backward, smacking hard on the metal of the bookshelf, and a hoarse, muffled cry of pleasure to escape his mouth.

And _then_ it was fun.

It was also quick.

Once Spike had discovered what Angel seemed to like best, the same types of things that Spike himself liked, which made sense considering he was dealing with similar equipment, he kept on doing it. Over and over he took Angel in as deep as he could, swallowed, throat constricting around the head of Angel's cock, and sucked as he pulled back, swirling his tongue around the tip before starting again.

Angel didn't want to close his eyes. Didn't want to miss a single second of how fucking unbelievable Spike looked, on his knees, mouth full, pretty, pretty eyes looking up at him. He really didn't want to. But he couldn't help it. When Spike did _that_ with his tongue, and _that_ with his teeth, when there was such delicious warm suction around his dick, when he could feel his balls draw up and his orgasm build from his toes, he just couldn't help it.

"Shit," he whispered, panting, tossing his head from side to side. "Shit, Spike… so fucking good. I'm gonna… shit!"

Spike had barely registered Angel's words before his mouth was flooded with the salty, bitter taste of Angel's cum, and _holy fuck_ he was drinking… damn. And it really wasn't half bad. It didn't really do anything for him, but the way that Angel was thrashing about, cursing and moaning made the effort well worth it.

Oh yeah. That Darla bitch had nothing on him. Angel was his now, if he wanted him.

Spike pulled back, letting Angel's cock slip from between his lips, and he smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and standing. "Like that, did you?" Spike asked, waggling his eyebrows and leaning in close to Angel, lips barely a centimetre apart, and he could feel Angel's heavy breaths against his face.

Angel let out a small huff of laughter in between gasps for air as he tried to recover from a killer orgasm as quickly as possible. "I don't think 'like' is a strong enough word," he said, mimicking Spike's earlier statement.

"Good," Spike said, and closed the distance between them to press his lips to Angel's, opening his mouth and darting his tongue inside. He swept it across Angel's tongue, his teeth, the roof of his mouth, and let the other boy taste the flavour of his own spend on Spike's tongue. Angel growled his pleasure, and Spike's hard dick pulsed in his pants, wanting attention, but they didn't have time for that just now.

"Good. Because next time it's my turn," he said, kissing Angel's once more, hard and fast, before pulling back and turning. Oh yeah. He was cool.

Or, he would have been, if he didn't grab two random books off the shelf and look back at Angel, holding them up, and nodding his head in the direction of the stairs. "We should check out a couple of books. You know… make it look like we had an actual reason for being back here for almost fifteen minutes. A reason that didn't involve erections and orgasms."

Angel rolled his eyes, but smiled and followed Spike toward the library check-out.

***

Giles stiffed a groan and sighed, closing his eyes and slouching back in his chair. He let himself relax for several seconds, taking a few deep breaths, thoroughly enjoying the fuzzy, floaty feeling that always followed orgasm, before he opened his eyes again and reached for the box of tissues on his desk.

He wiped himself down, cleaning up the spunk from where it had landed on his hand and stomach. He was pretty pleased with himself for timing it so well, coming at almost the exact same moment that Angel (and what a stupid nickname for a teenage boy) did, imagining that he was in his place, Spike on his knees in front of him, sucking and swallowing around him, driving him over the edge.

Angel was attractive, quite handsome, and oddly mature looking for a boy his age, but Spike… Spike was something else. So pretty, so sweet, had such a delicious innocent quality, despite his prickly exterior, and Giles would love to break that down, make the boy his, show him what could happen when a real man was involved, and it wasn't just two fumbling adolescents.

And he would. He just had to wait for his moment.

He had no doubt that he could… lure Spike into a sexual encounter. Thought it would be more fun if the boy thought that he didn't want it, tried to resist. It would just mean that he had to come up with a very convincing reason, and that would be fun. It was always better when he didn't give them a choice.

He smiled to himself, thinking of what exactly he was going to have Spike do for him, and absently tucked himself back in, righting his clothing and fastening his tweed jacket, heading out to stand behind the main library desk, and sign out the books that Spike had no intention of reading.

***

A couple of days after Spike had gotten down on his knees in the school library and sucked Angel's dick, he found himself standing outside the set of double doors, clutching the two books he'd borrowed to his chest. School had been over for a couple of hours now, and the halls were almost deserted.

Spike had been outside in the football bleachers after school, making out with Buffy, and trying to pretend it has her that was getting her hard, and not the sight of Angel prancing around in his tight little uniform, running and throwing and catching and slamming into his friends.

He had wanted to wait until the library was closed to return his books, so that he could just put them in the drop box and not have to face Mr. Giles, but the man must have had absolutely no life, because for the third day in a row, the library was still open at almost six o'clock in the evening.

It wasn't a big deal, he told himself. Didn't know why he didn't want to have to look the librarian in the face. Sure, he was a little embarrassed thinking about what he and Angel had done when Mr. Giles was so close by, but the man couldn't have known anything. Could he?

No, he'd been in his office when Spike had gone up to the desk to check out his books, hadn't been anywhere near the stacks where Spike and Angel had been fooling around. But there was something about the way he looked at Spike, knowing almost, teasing. And when he'd handed Spike the books he'd glanced briefly at Angel before looking back at Spike, he could have sworn that he winked at him.

It must have been his imagination. If Mr. Giles had seen anything he would have said something, and him and Angel would be in a hell of a lot of trouble. Then again, they still might be, which was why he didn't want to go anywhere near the man if he didn't have to.

He'd just go in, drop the books off on the counter and leave, as fast as he could. If he was lucky, Mr. Giles wouldn't even notice he was there.

He wasn't lucky.

"Bringing those books back so soon?" Giles asked, leaning casually against the doorframe that led to his office. Spike jumped at the words, letting the books fall the rest of the way to the counter, and slowly turned no face him. "You can't possibly have finished them both already."

"Well, I…" Spike started, stammering over his words briefly before he cleared his throat and stuffed one hand in his pocket, and slouched back against the counter. He was cool. He was the big bad. He was not terrified of a greying librarian, who may or may not have seen him giving head to the star football player a few days ago. "Turns out I'm not so much into reading. More of a… doing kind of a guy."

"Yes," Giles smirked, and pushed off the wall, raising and eyebrow. "I rather got that impression."

Spike frowned and took a step back, even though Giles hadn't really taken one forward. Damn, there was just something about the man, so seemingly proper and unassuming, but he had a hard edge to him, obviously knew a lot more than he let on, and Spike had a feeling there was something a little more sinister underneath.

"Yeah, sure," Spike said, frowning a confused sort of frown at Mr. Giles. "Well… there's your books," he said, nodding toward them. "So… thanks. Later."

He turned and started to walk away, to leave the library, but Giles' voice stopped him after only a couple of steps.

"Spike," he said, casually, calling the boy as if he were only reminding him that he'd forgotten his pencil, or to make sure he didn't skip Spanish class that afternoon. The boy turned back around, expecting Giles to talk, but he made him wait several very long seconds, in which Spike raised his eyebrow, sighed, and eventually started to fidget, the anticipation of what Giles would finally say obviously getting to him.

"Yeah?" Spike asked, impatiently, trying to hide his nervousness.

"I think perhaps you should come in to my office, Spike," Giles told him, sounding quite serious, and stepping out of the doorway. He raised his arm in a sweeping gesture, clearly indicating that Spike should enter first, but when he didn't move Giles dropped his arm. "We have something we need to discuss."

Spike wasn't sure if he wanted to go into Mr Giles' office with him, not when the man was looking at him like that. He looked really pleased with himself, like he was going to make Spike miserable, and be happy about it. And… oh, fuck, no way. Was he… He was! Old pervert was checking out his package! Shit. He had to get out of there.

"Nope, don't think so," he said, quickly, and shook his head. "Books are all there, don't have any other late fees as far as I can tell, but it was nice chatting." He took hold of both sides of his black leather duster and pulled them the slightest bit closer together, consciously trying not to make it look like he was hiding, but he was… well… hiding, trying to put an extra layer in between his body and Mr. Giles' disturbingly hungry eyes. "I've got to get home. Mum's expecting me."

Giles nodded, and smiled at Spike, eyes moving back up to his face. Damn. Perhaps he'd been a little too obvious. Well, if the boy wouldn't go around looking so appetising, then he wouldn't put himself in the sometimes unfortunate position of being the object of people's lust. It was really his own fault.

"Of course," he said, nodding at him, face slipping back into that of the harmless librarian. "You shouldn't keep your mother waiting."

Spike looked at him a bit oddly, but nodded in return and once more began to turn around.

"Only…" Giles started, and could barely contain his laughter as Spike turned back, almost growling in frustration that he couldn't just get out of there. "I thought you might like to know…"

"Look, Giles," Spike said, mood starting to go past nervous and in to fed up. If there was one thing he hated, it was to be played with, teased. "If you've got something to say, then say it. Otherwise, I'm getting the bloody hell out of here."

"Get in my office, Spike," Giles ordered, body going rigid, expression hard. How dare this little boy talk to him like that? "Now."

Spike swallowed and took a small step forward before he could even think about it, then cursed himself for his reaction, instinctively doing what he was told. He was really going to have to shake that habit, especially if he was going to be with Angel. That boy would make Spike his bitch and have fun doing it, unless Spike could get over the urge to obey every hot guy that gave him an order.

And whoa, back up. Had he just, in a round about, fucked up way, thought that Mr. Giles was hot? Shit. He'd thought it was just Angel that had brought out these recent desires in him, but it looked like he shaping up to be a right poofter. Not that he was in any way desiring Mr. Giles.

Maybe if he wasn't thirty years older than him, and the school librarian. But certainly not now.

Giles spun around, his back to Spike, and walked into his office, not questioning the fact that he would be followed. Spike was only 16 years old, and Giles was in a position of authority, and even if he hadn't seen the slight shiver and change in breathing of the younger man that signalled not only fear, but also excitement, he knew Spike wasn't nearly as badass as he liked to pretend, and he wouldn't dare disobey a direct request from a faculty member.

And wouldn't _that_ little fact turn out to be all kinds of fun in just a few moments.

Spike cursed quietly to himself but followed Giles into his office, pausing slightly as he passed him, standing next to the doorway, holding the door by the handle. Spike looked at him briefly, but took another few steps, and was proud of himself when he didn't jump when Giles shut the door behind him, the thud and snick reverberating through the quiet room.

"Is this a non-smoking room?" Spike asked. "Because I haven't had a ciggie in hours, and I could really go for one about now."

Giles just looked at him, and Spike sighed, slouching, and giving up the act. "Fine. Wot do you want? Am I gonna need to sit down for this?" he asked, looking at the chair in front of Mr. Giles desk.

Giles smiled. It started slowly, but grew wide, nasty, and he shook his head once. "No. No, I think this would be a lot more difficult with you sitting down."

"Err… what?"

"As I was saying as you were leaving," he said, turning the lock on the inside of his office door. It might have been to keep Spike in, but most of it was to make sure they weren't interrupted. "Did you know, that due to some unfortunate instances of vandalism of school property, the library, among other locations throughout the campus, is now outfitted with several security cameras?"

Spike froze, fingers awkwardly remaining in place, stopping the random tapping they'd been doing on his thighs, and he raised his head to look at Giles, tongue coming out to moisten his suddenly dried lips. "Is that…" he started, and then gulped down a breath of air, before continuing. "That so?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. Fuck. Giles knew. He'd seen it. He probably had it on video tape. Spike felt blood rush to his face, felt the warmth diffuse and knew that he was reddening. Why the hell couldn't it have been Buffy that he'd gone down on in the library? It would have made this so much less embarrassing.

Although, judging by the look on Giles' face, embarrassment probably wasn't his biggest concern.

"I wanted to let you know, in advance, that I'm going to have to tell Snyder about… well," he snorted and crossed the room, standing in front of Spike, and resting his backside against his desk, arms casually folded over his chest. "I'm sure you know exactly what I'm going to have to tell him."

Spike couldn't think. What he'd done with Angel had been documented, saved, so that later it could be shared with whoever was interested, and Snyder wasn't going to react well. And Spike didn't want to even consider who else could find out about it, and what they would do or say. What his mum would think, or Buffy, or how Angel would react when their little secret was all over the school.

"You do know what I'll have to tell him," Rupert said, making a concerned sort of face, his tone soft, gentle, as if he actually wasn't sure that Spike knew what he was talking about, as if he cared that it would ruin him. "Don't you?"

Spike opened his mouth and tried to speak, but only a croak came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yeah," he said, shaky, trying his best not to collapse. "Yeah, I know."

"Tell me," Giles suggested, and let his eyes wander down Spike's body again.

"Excuse me?" Spike asked, managing to sound a little bit affronted, despite his near paralysing fear.

"Just so we're clear. Tell me. Exactly what is it, that I'm going to have to tell Snyder? What exactly is it, that I saw you doing in here the other day?"

"I um… Well, me and Angel, we…"

"Yes?"

"We were sort of…" Shit, this was just wrong. They both knew what he'd done, he shouldn't have to say the words, not when everybody was going to know soon enough. The old perv probably just wanted a play-by-play.

"Spike," Giles said, sounding impatient. "I haven't got all day."

"I sucked his cock, alright?" he snapped, and his eyes went wide, almost unable to believe what he'd just said. "It that what you wanted to hear? I sucked it, and he shot his load down my throat and I was so fuckin' good at it, that now I think he's a little bit in love with me."

Actually, Spike wasn't really sure about how well he'd done, and he and Angel hadn't had the chance to get together again since then, so he hadn't been told, but based on Angel's reactions, he'd been more than alright.

Giles nodded, as if this information was completely meaningless, but the truth was, the words got to him, like he hoped they would. Ramped up his desire to try Spike out, to see if he was as good as he claimed.

"Snyder's not going to be happy about this," he said. "The two of you will be suspended for certain. Probably expelled. As we both know, our illustrious principal has no tolerance for any kind of delinquency, and I do believe your recent activities would qualify."

Spike managed not to pull his coat around his body this time, suppressing a shiver at the way Giles was ogling him, and looked directly into his eyes. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to go through with it or not. No, that wasn't true. He knew he _didn't_ want to, it was just a matter of whether or not he would.

"And you're telling me all this… why, exactly?" he asked. "Why not just go straight to Snyder, tell him what you know, and get our homo arses kicked out of the school?"

"Because, Spike," Giles said, cool and neutral. "I don't particularly care one way or the other about what happens to the two of you. I'm just as happy to keep this little matter between us. It doesn't have to go any further than this room. Snyder won't have to know, neither will your parents or your friends. You and Angel will be completely safe. But I'm going to need you to do a little something for me."

"Yeah?" Spike asked, moving a little bit closer to Giles. "And what's that then?" He already knew, but he was hoping he was wrong. Maybe Giles just wanted him to sort some books or something. It was possible.

Giles smiled at him, baring his teeth in what looked like a sneer. "You're not a stupid boy, Spike, no matter what you like to pretend. What do you think?"

"I think… I think you want me to do what I did for Angel," Spike sighed and looked down at his feet. Fuck, and he was going to do it, too. He was going to give Mr. Giles head, if he asked for it, because he and Angel had been careless, and they'd gotten caught, and Spike wasn't ready for of what they'd done to be broadcast around town.

"Very close, dear boy," Giles told him, and his eyes twinkled with delight. Oh, this was going to be fun! "I do want you to get me off, like you did him, but not in the same way. You're mouth, delectable as it looks, just won't do, I'm afraid. I want to fuck you."

"What?!" Spike shrieked and looked at Giles in horror. "You can't… seriously… I mean… NO!"

Giles mock-pouted and took a step closer to Spike, reaching out to grab the lapel of his duster and yank him closer. "Poor boy," he said. "What's the matter? Haven't let Angel get that far? Have some first time jitters, do you?"

"No!" Spike said again, shaking his head, pulling back slightly, but Giles didn't let go of his coat. "I mean… yes. I mean… No, Angel and I haven't… and I'm sure as hell not letting you… Get the hell away from me!"

"Oh, so you _are_ a virgin? That makes this so much sweeter. Don't worry boy," Giles said, lowering his voice, as if he were telling Spike a secret. "Angel's going to like you so much better once I'm finished with you. You'll be begging him to fuck you after you learn how wonderful it is."

"I told you," Spike growled through gritted teeth. "You're not bloody… and hey, hang on a mo," he said, after his brain had had enough time to process even a little bit of what was going on here. "Angel was there too!"

"Yes, Spike, I do know that," Giles agreed, nodding, looking at Spike as if he was a special kind of idiot. "That's actually what's given me all my leverage."

"No, I mean… why aren't you hitting him up for a buggering to keep mum about what we did? Or… are you?" He could have already fucked Angel, Spike realised. Or he could be planning on it as soon as he was finished with Spike.

"I'm not," Giles assured him. "And if you cooperate, I won't." Giles wasn't stupid. He knew that if he promised Spike he'd leave Angel alone, he'd be more compliant. Hell, if he went as far as actually keeping the promise, he'd probably be able to use Spike again and again, make his days a little less tedious.

It was partly that he would naturally feel protective of his new 'friend', would want to keep him safe, and partly because he wouldn't want to draw Angel's attention to anything that might be amiss, to risk the other boy ending things because someone had found out about them.

And, Giles knew, because William was just that insecure, he would partly give in because of jealousy, misplaced and ridiculous though it was. He wouldn't want anyone else going near Angel, even if it was coerced, at best, but closer to rape.

"Why?" Spike asked, sceptical, but wanting to believe him. He didn't want to let this old bastard get a leg over, but… damn. He'd been thinking about getting buggered, wanted to let Angel try, at some point, and if he didn't do what Giles wanted, that chance would be gone.

Their secret would be out, and Angel would never want to see him again.

Giles' grin softened and he let go of Spike's coat, inching closer. "Because, you silly thing," he said, looking down at him, tilting his oddly unresisting chin up with one finger. "You're prettier."

It was unequivocally the truth, and Giles was much happier to have cornered Spike like this than Angel, but more important was the fact that he didn't think Angel would capitulate so easily. He'd throw Spike to the wolves if he thought it would help him, wouldn't be so fast to sacrifice his own virtue to protect someone else.

Spike blinked, remained still. He looked up at Giles, the older man's eyes softer than they'd been a moment ago, conveying a gentle desire, and not the malicious greed that had been there before. _He was pretty_, Spike thought, and almost blushed. Someone had just called him pretty.

He was pretty sure he should want to punch Mr. Giles, maybe knee him in the nuts, and stick his boot up his arse, for blackmailing him like this, for sexually assaulting him, or promising to… but he didn't. Mr. Giles thought he was pretty. Wanted him. Wanted him more than he wanted Angel, and really Spike was self-aware enough to know that that's what did it, what changed his mind.

Angel was one of the most popular kids in school, everybody loved him, everybody wanted to be like him, be his friend, everybody _wanted_ him. Including Spike, even though it pissed him off some. But not Mr. Giles. He wanted _Spike_. And that boost to Spike's ego was impossible for him to resist.

Spike nodded almost imperceptibly, and Giles noticed it probably before Spike himself did. Giles stepped back, letting go of Spike's chin, moving to stand next to his desk again. "Good," he said. "Take your jacket off, and come here."

Spike awkwardly shrugged out of his duster and hung it up on the coat rack near the door. It wasn't that he particularly cared about taking good care of it, but more because he had a feeling that Mr. Giles was the type to like things in specific order, and things might be harder on him if he made a mess of his office. He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor for a moment before taking several hesitant steps toward the man.

"Relax, Spike," Giles said, holding out a hand for Spike to take, and pulling the young boy against him when he took it. "I'm not going to bite. It _will_ hurt a little, I suspect," he said, and placed a soft kiss to Spike's cheekbone, then let his tongue trail across it slowly. "But I promise, you'll like it."

Spike shivered at the touch, the soft, wet slide of tongue across his skin, the seductive whisper of words causing his eyelids to flutter closed and he sucked in a deep, heavy breath.

"Oh yes," Giles said around a smile, turning them so that Spike was facing his desk, and pressed up against him from behind. This was going to be even easier than he'd thought. The poor kid would probably end up loving it, perhaps even ask for more. It was delicious. "Yes, I really think you're going to enjoy this, Spike."

Spike managed not to squeak, which he was incredibly proud of himself for, when Giles jerked his hips forward ever so slightly, and Spike felt the very hard, very large outline of his cock against the crack of his arse. He did get hard though. Then again, it was possible he'd been hard for a while, probably since Giles had first leered at him, or at the very least since he'd grabbed his jacket and invaded his personal space.

Spike was embarrassingly easy. A slut for anyone that expressed an interest. It was shameful. Sadly that shame made Spike even hotter.

He managed not to shoot his load right there in his pants when Giles covered his dick with his hand, palm pressed flat against it, roughly grinding it into his belly, and puffed out a hot, moist breath against the side of his neck. He was really fucking proud of himself for that.

"That's it, sweet boy," Giles cooed, unfastening Spike's pants and opening them slightly, letting the tip of his tongue work over Spike's neck, top of his spine to just behind his ear, delighting in the boy's slight quiver. "Show me how much you want it."

"I _don't_ want it," Spike ground out, knowing that Giles would see through the lie, but needing to say it anyway. The honest truth of it was that he wouldn't have wanted it. Wouldn't even have thought of it, not in his wildest fantasies (and they could get pretty damn wild). He hadn't wanted it when he first came in here, had actually been kind of scared of Mr. Giles. Still was.

But the more the man spoke, the more he said, about wanting Spike, about him being pretty, his voice, gruff and experienced and full of desire drifting through the air and straight to Spike's cock… yeah, the honest truth of it was that he was starting to want it. And if Mr. Giles suddenly decided to stop, Spike would mostly be relieved, but a part of him would be disappointed.

"I don't want it," he said again, trying to convince himself as well. "Pervert."

"Well then," Giles smiled, and removed his hand from Spike's cock to grab his pants at both sides and pull them down to his thighs. He leaned in to whisper straight into Spike's ear, as he slipped the middle two fingers of his left hand along Spike's newly bared crack. "That's even better."

Spike's breath caught in his throat and he almost choked on it, hiccupping and swallowing, the uncomfortable bubble moving down to his belly, when Giles put a hand on his back and suddenly slammed him forward. The soft flesh of his stomach folded over the hard edge of the wood, pinching, and winding him, his chest slamming down full force on the surface.

He didn't have time to bring his arms up to brace himself, and he was only thankful that Giles caught him at the last second, hand on his shoulder and stopping him from bruising up his cheek.

"Careful boy," Giles warned, as if Spike had slipped and nearly fallen face-first on the desk on purpose, and it hadn't been Giles who'd just forced him down. "Can't have you bruising up that pretty face of yours." Of course, Giles really, really wished they _could_ have him bruising up his pretty face, because that would make it even prettier in his estimation.

But a noticeable bruise, especially someplace visible, would raise too many questions. Not that he thought Spike would tell, good heavens no. The boy would take this particular secret to the grave, no matter what, Giles was sure. He just didn't want to have to field any undue questions from Snyder about why the boy had ended up hurt after his trip to the library.

"Yeah, then I might actually have some evidence when I go the cops after," Spike snarled. Or it started out as a snarl, anyway, but ended up in kind of high-pitched moan when a thick, forceful finger slipped inside him. It was tight, but it didn't hurt, not yet, and it only made Spike want more. Oh, bloody hell did he ever want more.

He pushed up on his toes then, a completely unconscious movement, and tilted his hips upward, lodging the finger just a little bit deeper.

Giles smirked and jabbed another finger in, hard and fast and dry, breathing in slowly when Spike bit off a sharp cry, and tried to jerk away. "Oh, if that's what you wanted to do, Spike, I guarantee you'll have more that enough evidence without your pretty face all messed up."

And then Giles scissored his fingers, and Spike really did cry out, and his skin tore as it was stretched beyond anything it had experienced before. When Giles pulled his fingers away, sharp and quick, and Spike let out a quiet grunt, his fingers were coated in thin streaks of blood.

"Son of a bitch!" Spike complained, managing to get his hands under him and push up slightly, screwing up his face and trying to pull his hips forward. That only managed to push his still-hard cock up against the underside of the desk, tip dragging across a screw that wasn't all the way screwed in, and Spike cursed and shifted back and he could have sworn that Giles had put the screw that way on purpose, even though he knew it was ridiculous.

"Quiet!" Giles ordered, slamming Spike back down with a hand, and starting on his own pants with the other, freeing himself from the now-tight cotton. He let out a small, low moan of appreciation when he tugged a few times on his hard cock, looking down at Spike's bared arse, licking his lips.

He was tempted to just take the boy like this, just plough right in, bare and dry, only the slight lubrication created by his pre-cum and Spike's blood to ease the way. But he couldn't. Or wouldn't. For one, even though Spike had never done specifically this before, he knew the boy was sexually active, and he could be carrying Lord only knew what, and if Giles wasn't exactly living like a monk himself. He was always safe.

Of somewhat less importance, was that he didn't want to damage the boy too badly. Oh, he was a pretty thing, and Giles had no doubt that he'd be even prettier banged up and bloody and crying in pain, but what Giles really liked, what really got him off, was taking someone like Spike, who hadn't thought they even wanted this in the first place, and showing how very wrong they'd been.

He liked them to enjoy themselves, and while he could get away with throwing a _little_ pain in the mix, too much would spoil the mood.

"Fuckin' hurts," Spike complained, and Giles smiled, because he sounded more like a pouting little boy, than someone that was actually objecting.

"Well hold still, Spike," Giles suggested, reaching around the corner of his desk to the top drawer, draping his body over Spike's as he did, his cock nestling between Spike's cheeks. "It won't be so bad if you behave yourself. You might even like it."

"Just…" Spike started, about to tell the pervert to just get the hell on with it, but stopped when he saw him open his desk drawer, and watched as Giles pulled out a condom, and a fairly large bottle of KY. "You keep those in your desk?!" Spike asked, voice a mix of shocked and impressed. "Right there in the top? Christ, you really are a sick old bastard, aren't you?"

Giles chuckled, an honestly delighted sound, from behind Spike, as he worked the condom on, and poured a generous amount of lubrication onto his fingers. "Didn't I just tell you to be quiet?" he asked, but there was no heat behind it. Spike was amusing, if he wasn't yelling loud enough for somebody happening past the library doors could hear him.

"Yeah, well, I think I started out telling you to keep the hell away from me," Spike answered, sucking in a breath and going completely rigid when he felt the blunt tip of the librarian's cock against his arse. "We don't always get what we want, old man."

"It's cute, Spike," Giles said, sliding his slicked up erection up and down over Spike's crack, working it in just a little, teasing over the tight pucker. Spike was holding very, very still, and even though Giles could tell he was scared, he was trying to his damndest to keep his face neutral. "How you're pretending you're not afraid. So much bravado with you. Does it ever get tiring, keeping up appearances?"

Spike's first thought was to tell Giles that he wasn't afraid, that the older man was insane if he thought that, because Spike wasn't afraid of anything, least of all getting boned by an over-the-hill book nerd. But he'd have been lying. He was afraid. He had wanted to try this at some point, but this wasn't how he'd pictured it, and Mr. Giles didn't exactly seem the gentle type.

Still, it wasn't like he had much choice, not if he didn't want his and Angel's little secret getting out, and he thought that maybe Giles would go easier on him if he was honest.

"Yeah, I'm scared, alright?" he confessed, closing his eyes, and tightening his face when Giles pushed in a little further, starting to open him up. "I'm practically a sodding child, and so far you've humiliated me, hurt me, made me bleed, and now you're forcing me into taking your cock up my arse. I'm sure everyone's a little nervous the first time they're sexually molested."

Giles laughed again, poured some more of the KY over Spike's arse, and pushed in the tiniest bit more, pulling out again, and pressing back in a few times to work the slick around, make his entrance easier. Spike really was quite entertaining. Giles was beginning to develop a soft spot for him.

"Don't be so dramatic, boy," he told him, and pushed just a little bit more, the head of his cock all the way in now, and the tight ring of muscle closing around it. Spike grunted and Giles could see his face change from surprised, to pained, to relieved that the worst seemed to be over when Giles stopped moving.

His eyes had never opened, but Giles could see the play of emotions over his face, Spike's every thought, every sensation, plain as day in his expressive features, and it was a view he could very much appreciate. "I made it quite clear that you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Except that he'd made exactly the opposite clear. It was fun to twist things though, and if he planted enough doubt, perhaps later, Spike would blame himself, and that would be even more delicious.

"No, 'course not," Spike managed to get out around a mouthful of air, as he tried hard not to pant. It hurt. It really fuckin' hurt. It was tight, and uncomfortable, and he was pretty sure he was starting to bleed again, or still, whatever, and after Mr. Giles had given him a few seconds to adjust, he kept on pressing. Slow, sure, and not nearly as rough as Spike would have thought, but he didn't let up, and he didn't stop, no matter how much Spike ground his teeth together, or growled or cursed under his breath.

Didn't stop until he was all the way inside, and Spike could feel his hips pressed against him, his thighs, still covered by his soft cotton pants, pressed to Spike's, his balls hanging warm and solid against Spike's balls. Fuck! Yeah, it hurt, but then Giles stopped moving, and his hands went to Spike's sides, and he just moved them, up and down under Spike's shirt, fingers dancing over his ribs, not quite tickling, and the action struck Spike as odd, contrary, because it felt a hell of a lot like comfort.

And that was bloody impossible.

Spike tried to ignore the slightly warm feeling that spread through him at the touch, and concentrated instead on the sharp stab turned dull ache that was the result of the very first, very large, cock inside him. It was pretty easy to do. "You made it very clear that I could just walk away, with my dignity and virginity in tact, as long as I was willing to ruin my reputation, and Angel's, and most likely get the both of us kicked out of school and hated by our parents."

Giles started to move then, slowly, a few strokes in and out, and it wasn't long before he felt Spike relax under him, and he was sure that the pain was rapidly fading. Not being replaced with pleasure, not just yet, but that would come soon enough. "So, you're saying it was just a matter of which way you'd prefer I screw you?" Giles asked, voice laced with humour.

"Funny," Spike snorted. "You'd just better… shit! Fuck!" That hadn't been exactly what he'd meant to say, but suddenly there was a warm, slick hand around his prick, sliding along it, fingers clamping and thumb rubbing across the head, and he forgot what his original thought was.

He was sixteen years old though, and he'd only ever had sex a handful of times, never had his dick touched by another boy, and since he and Angel had… yeah, well, since then, he'd found that he really, really wanted to.

Sure, Mr. Giles wasn't the ideal candidate, but he was damn good at it, and as much as Spike didn't want to like this, he found that he kind of did. Shit, that was good, the way he was starting to move his hips, his hand, Spike caught between the two sensations, each one ramping up the pleasure of the other.

Or, no, it was bad. Bad, yes. Very bad, and not at all good, and Spike was sure as hell _not_ moving his own hips now, pumping them in time with Giles' movement, finding that he was well on the way to orgasm. Bad.

"I'm fucking sixteen years old, you shit," Spike said, tilting his hips, pushing back, so Giles went in even deeper than before, and he hit something along the way, some spot, some_thing_ inside him that made Spike's eyes shoot open, and forced a deep moan of appreciation from his chest.

"Did you ever think to use someone a little closer to your own age, or at least _legal_, to get your rocks off?"

"Silly boy," Giles chastised, starting a steady rhythm with his thrusts, having to put in a concerted effort to stay in control. He was getting close. Bloody embarrassing was what it was. A man his age should be able to last a good deal longer than this, but everything about Spike was conspiring to send him over the edge much more quickly than he'd have liked. "Did you ever think that it was _because_ you're so young, that I'm – as you so crudely put it – getting my rocks off?"

"Oh, _God_!" was all Spike managed, when Giles pushed in harder, over and over his prostate, and stripped his cock even faster. "Oh, fuck, yes, God!"

Giles didn't bother hiding his smirk, not that Spike was looking at him and kept on talking, even as both of their movements became more and more erratic. "Besides." Push, push, push, deep breath. "If you were so concerned about being old enough for sex, perhaps you shouldn't have been giving our star quarterback head in the world history section."

"Yeah, wotever," Spike said absently, and just kept rocking, rocking against Mr. Giles, and it wasn't long before he was coming, shouting out random, incoherent words, a rough hand clamped over his mouth to muffle his cries.

He fell forward when he was finished, his body going from rigid with need and the effort of his orgasm, to lax and boneless in the aftermath, and Giles took advantage the boy's sudden pliancy to chase his own end. He grabbed Spike's hips tight in his hands, fingers digging into the skin, leaving tiny little half moon marks that would turn red and rise up, the only visible evidence (besides Spike's certain off-kilter walk for the next day or so) that Giles was willing to leave on his body of what was happening here today.

He sped up, thrusting inside Spike erratically, deep, quick little jerks that probably would have hurt him if he wasn't so blissfully unaware at the moment. Which was perfect, because even though he wasn't feeling it now, he'd definitely feel it later. Perhaps tonight, when he was alone in bed, a heavy, dull ache to remind him of this.

Perhaps he'd lie naked under the covers, run his hands over the welts on his hips created by Giles' nails, and he'd still feel him inside, wrap his thin fingers around his erection, and live it all over again.

And with that beautiful picture in his head, Giles let out a soft grunt, bottom lip clenched tightly between his teeth to keep from crying out, and emptied himself inside Spike. He gave himself a moment to pull together, and then he placed a soft kiss to the back of Spike's neck and pulled out, standing up and running his hand over Spike's arse.

"That was even better than I was expecting, young man," Giles praised, shucking off the condom and wrapping it in a tissue, before wiping himself down and doing his pants back up.

"Yeah, well," Spike said, grumbling again now that the high of orgasm had faded. He stood up, wincing at the sharp pain of movement, and hissed in through his teeth. He snatched up a couple of tissues from the box on the desk and wiped himself off, pointedly not bothering to clean up the mess he'd made on the underside of the wood. "Glad to be of service."

Giles didn't bother pointing out that Spike had gotten off on it, since it was painfully obvious. "Next time you and the quarterback want to indulge your perversion," he said, walking around his desk to sit down in his chair, and picking up a book, planning to get some work done. "Find someplace a bit more private."

Spike snorted and zipped up his pants, the sound of interlocking metal teeth sliding against each other loud in the otherwise quiet room. "You mean like the librarian's desk?"

Giles barely glanced at him and opened his notebook on the desk, picking up a pen. "Get out please," he said, voice sounding detached and impatient, and not at all like he'd just fucked the boy. "I have work to do."

Spike frowned, feeling chilly, but nodded, and started toward the door. Before he stepped through it, he turned back around. "You'll…" he started, swallowed. "You'll keep quiet though? About me and Angel?"

Giles looked up at him then from his chair, and smiled. It wasn't cold, or cruel, it wasn't particularly anything, and Spike couldn't read him. "Goodbye, Spike," he said, and turned back to his work, and just like that, Spike was dismissed.

He nodded, even though Giles wasn't looking anymore, uncertainty sitting solid in his belly, and walked out the door.

***

Two weeks later, Spike had nearly forgotten about what had happened with Mr. Giles, in his office in the library. Alright, no, so he hadn't even close to forgotten, but it no longer plagued his every waking thought, and most of his sleeping ones as well.

He and Angel had still been seeing each other, secretly, Spike still with Buffy and Angel still with Darla, at least in public, but four separate times now the two boys had gotten together, explored each other's bodies, becoming increasingly comfortable and intimate.

Spike had taken Mr. Giles' advice, and taken their encounters somewhere more private, much to Angel's irritation at first, when he asked Spike for a blow job in the locker room two days after Spike had been confronted by the librarian. Spike had said no, and insisted they only get together at someone's house from then on, and Angel had reluctantly agreed, because he didn't want to have to wait as long as the walk back to Spike's place to get his dick sucked, but Spike wouldn't budge about it.

They hardly ever talked, just fucked around, exchanged hand jobs mostly, but Spike had gotten Angel to agree to blow him when he threatened never to do it to _him_ again if he didn't return the favour. They hadn't actually had sex yet, but they were working towards it, if slowly.

Spike was understandably a little freaked out about going too far, too fast after what had happened with Mr. Giles, but he did want to. And Angel ridiculously patient with him. If Spike didn't know better, he'd think that Angel actually _liked_ him. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up with a boyfriend.

He smiled at that thought as Angel's hand worked over his cock, pulling him frantically, thrusting his own slick erection against it. They were in Angel's basement, sitting on a ratty old sofa that was a leftover from the 1970's, when orange plaid was a valid decorating choice, and Angel was straddling him, their pants open and their cocks bared, rutting against each other as they traded sloppy, biting kisses.

Spike would be perfectly content to never, ever be with Buffy again, as long as he could have this, this hard body, harder cock, rough and demanding Angel pressing on him, pulling him close.

"Oh, fuck, Spike, yes," Angel panted, and Spike knew he was getting close. Spike was too, so he put his hands on Angel's arse and pulled him closer, encouraging the humping motion his hips were already making, setting up a steady beat. It wouldn't be long now.

"Angel!"

Angel jumped off and Spike looked up at him in horror when they heard Angel's father's angry voice and the determined clop of his heavy footfalls on the stairs.

"Shit!" Angel whispered, and they both fastened their pants quickly, wincing as hard, unsatisfied cocks were shoved back into constricting clothing. And it wasn't even close to convincing. One look at them would give away the fact that they were hard, and that they'd been making out. That kind of thing was almost impossible to hide.

Angel smoothed out his hair, and Spike wiped the slobber away from his face, and they sat unnaturally far apart on the large couch, and pretended to be watching television. It was unfortunate that they hadn't been paying attention to what was on, because as it was, they were pretending to be watching _My Little Pony_.

Yeah, if the strained fronts of their trousers or their flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips didn't give away the fact that they were gay, watching a television show that six year old girls watched sure as bloody hell would.

Angel's father got to the bottom of the stairs and stood, staring at the boys, arms folded over his chest. He looked at them, eyes narrowed, and waited until Angel turned to look up at him.

"Dad?" Angel squeaked out, and Spike knew he was nervous. Well, shit, they'd just been rubbing off on each other, of course he was.

"You boys having fun?" he asked, and the way he said it told them both that there was absolutely no right answer to that question. Had he seen them? Had they been too obvious?

"Dad?" Angel asked again, and Spike wanted to pat him on the head, and tell him to get a grip.

"Spike, go home," his dad said, and Spike looked at the man, confused, but stood, and nodded. If Angel was in trouble for something, he didn't need to be there.

"Wait," Angel said. "Dad, what…"

"Spike, go," Angel's dad said, ignoring his son. "I just got off the phone with your father, and he's waiting at home for you."

"What..?" Spike asked, this time.

"Get out, Spike, and the two of you aren't to go anywhere near each other from now on."

"Dad…"

"In fact, boy, I might have to pull you out of that school of yours, send you to St. Gerome's, remind you exactly what being Catholic means."

Spike swallowed, his eyes wide, and he looked at Angel, briefly, before turning his head to the ground. Shit, this was bad.

"I got a phone call a few minutes ago, had an enlightening conversation with the librarian at your high school," he told them both, his voice harsh and he was silently seething.

Angel still looked confused, _obviously_, Spike thought, because he hadn't told him about what had gone on with Mr. Giles, and if their dad's finding out that they had a couple of queers for sons wasn't enough for Angel to never want to see him again, keeping that secret probably would be.

He didn't say anything, couldn't even look at Angel anymore as he walked past Angel's dad, giving the man a wide berth, and up the stairs.

His own dad was going to be pissed, sure, but he knew he probably wasn't in as much trouble as Angel was. His parents would be disappointed, confused, pissed off that he'd blown someone in the fucking library, but ultimately they'd accept Spike liking dick, if he decided he wanted to stick with it. So he was scared to face them, but not nearly as scared as Angel should be with that emotionally abusive shithead of a father of his to deal with.

No, the thing about this that bothered Spike most about getting caught, was losing Angel, when they'd only barely got started.

Mr. Giles, that stupid son of a bitch, had told. He'd practically raped Spike, abused him and forced himself on him, in exchange for shutting his gob about what he'd seen, and the bastard had went and told anyway.

Spike wasn't going to forget this, and even if took a few years, he was going to make the son of a bitch pay.

END


End file.
